


Who Am I

by Onlymystory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymystory/pseuds/Onlymystory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is tired of being taken for granted and everyone assuming they know him so he lashes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually one of the first Teen Wolf fics I ever started working on. I tend to work through it slowly but since I'm just now posting it here, the updates will be pretty regular for awhile.

“I’m done!” Stiles screams at the pack as he storms out of the sub station to his jeep. “Fucking done!” He was just told that he has to take care of research against a coven that’s moved into town and once again no one asks Stiles. Between that and everything else in his life you could call it the proverbial last straw. He’s snapping and he doesn’t even care who witnesses it.

He should have known none of them would just let him leave that fast. Derek has him up against the wall in a flash and even Scott looks pissed. Stiles was having none of it. He was done being the token human, done being used for whatever they needed.

“Let me go Derek,” he says.

“Are you going to research the coven for us?” demands Derek first. He at least moves his arm off Stiles’ throat but keeps one hand around his wrist, preventing Stiles from going anywhere.

“No,” he says again. “Do your own research.”

“That’s your job, Stiles,” says Allison, looking at him like this should be obvious.

Stiles turns to glare at her and clearly he does have a look that can kill because Scott snarls at him and steps in front of Allison in a protective stance. “Did you ever ask me if I wanted that job? Did any of you ever ask if I wanted any of this?”

“Stiles, you’re being ridiculous. Everyone knows you’re the guy who lives for this stuff. You love spending hours focused on a project,” inserts Lydia.

“And then I’m the one who gets kidnapped or tortured or beaten. I’m the one who has to lie to his dad because even if he knows about werewolves he doesn’t know about half the other shit that happens or that his new bff Chris Argent has no problems killing me if I cross a line. I’m the one who has to figure out how to make it home on my own after the aforementioned torture because you’re all busy rescuing the pack.” Stiles stops before he starts spilling the things he’d rather keep secret.

“The pack is important, Stiles,” says Derek and even he can tell that was the wrong thing to say.

All Stiles wants to do is collapse into the wall and cry because he knows he’s not pack. He knows that he’s not that important. The problem is that Stiles gets that feeling far too often and his current rage isn’t about to let him be silent.

“And I’m not,” he spits out bitterly. “Don’t bother arguing. If you thought I mattered, you wouldn’t have said it in the first place.”

“You are important,” says Scott.  “It just makes sense to let you do the studying part. Even if we tried, you’d still be up until 4am doing it too.”

Stiles gives up. Screw keeping secrets. He’ll be kept out after this no matter what, might as well go out swinging.

“Do you know why I’m up until all hours pretty much every night, Scott?” he asks. “Because it’s not this insane focus on research or some bullshit thirst for knowledge. I stay up all night because the minute I close my eyes everything presses in like it’s going to crush me. If I don’t find a project to focus on, to devote my energy, then my brain starts focusing on memories.”

“So?” Jackson’s assholery still knows no bounds.

“So tell me what my memories are, Jackson. You don’t remember the time as the kanima do you? That’s right, it’s all a giant blank spot. I mean sure, you’ve been told what happened but it’s not like there’s anything to haunt your dreams.” Stiles is choking on the words but he’s determined to get this out. “Do you know what I see? I see Drew, the mechanic trying to scream as he’s literally crushed to death and all I can think is I’m next because my finger won’t tap the next button on the phone. I see Matt walking towards my dad with a gun and I can’t move to save him and I want to believe Scott will but Matt’s also threatening his mom and if it came to a choice, he’d choose her. And I can’t blame him because let’s face it, I’d choose my dad first but I. Can’t. Fucking. Move.”

Stiles wants to vomit at this point. “I see Gerard in the corners of every building, wondering if today is the day I die. I close my eyes and I can hear Lydia screaming as Peter rips her apart. And if I close them too long, I see him coming after me.

“You ask why I stay up at night? It’s because the monsters that haunt Beacon Hills are nothing compared to what happens in my dreams.”

Derek releases Stiles’ arm and steps back a little. “You should have said something.” His voice is softer than it usually is and something about that just makes it worse for Stiles.

“Should I? How many times have you woken up screaming, covered in sweat, telling yourself if you’d just gotten there faster, seen the signs sooner, that you could have saved Laura? Saved your family?” Stiles knows he’s crossing a line because Derek’s eyes are glowing red. It doesn’t matter.

None of it matters.

“You all say you know me. Do you know I have panic attacks on an almost weekly basis? Oh I’ve learned to hide it and I just tell you I’m popping Adderall but I am literally holding myself together by a thread here.”

Scott is staring at him in shock and Allison & Isaac are in tears and even Jackson is starting to look worried.

“You said you know who I am. I say you don’t.”

Lydia reaches out a hand towards him. “Maybe we don’t know you as well as we should, but we still know you, Stiles. We know you love your dad and miss your mom and that you love playing lacrosse.”

He thought he’d already snapped. Turns out there was still more to break. “I play lacrosse because every time I get hit it feels like I’m getting a taste of what I deserve for not finding a way to save my mom.

“I do miss my mom,” he adds, his voice dangerously calm. “I miss her every day. I missed her more than anything last Tuesday. That was the day she died.”

He doesn’t miss the looks of surprise on everyone’s faces. “Oh right, you were thinking I just skipped the pack meeting because typical Stiles, does things his own way. It’s not like it’s a big secret when she died. But none of you knew the date. None of you bothered to call and ask why I couldn’t make it. Ask if anything was wrong.”

He’s crying and shaking and his head is pounding from the entire mess and yet he knows he’s got a little bit left.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to want nothing more than to crawl into your dad’s arms and let him take the pain away but know that you can’t because no matter how much he loves you, so much of what you do reminds him of your mother? To know that while he’d tell me it was okay, while he’d wipe my tears away, every minute would be tearing him apart because I have my mother’s eyes? Do you get that? The kind of pain he goes through so I won’t go through worse. And I can’t let him because it kills me when my dad is hurting.”

Stiles stares at the others, catching the eyes of each before he finishes. The looks he gets are of shock, sympathy, pain. There aren’t looks of hatred or fear or anger. And in a little way that’s worse, because that means they’ll be forgiving him and paying attention to him and caring. And yeah maybe he’s yelling at them to actually care for once but the problem is the minute they do, that’s just someone else for him to lose.

“You say you know me,” he whispers. “You say ‘Stiles we love you’ and ‘Stiles, we care’ and ‘Stiles, Stiles, Stiles’. Except the thing is, that’s not even my name. None of you know my name. You never asked. “ He moves to leave and turns back to the people he loves. Because he does love them. He knows them and loves them and no matter how much it hurts, he knows he’ll always try to protect them. But Stiles also knows that he needs to get away right now. Needs to be alone. So he asks one last question before walking away.

“How can you know me when you don’t even know my name?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter has a lot of notes at the end that I hope you will all read before commenting. Thank goodness AO3 gives a notes space, unlike FF. (When I posted this there, it confused people). One thing before reading. The name I gave Stiles is important and specific to this particular story. I know Jeff said that Genim is not Stiles' real name but like many writers, I don't like to make up a name for Stiles. But in this case, there are reasons for it. So yeah. More on that later.

It doesn’t surprise Stiles that Derek is waiting in his bedroom when he gets home from school three days later. Maybe a part of him thought he’d yelled enough at Derek to get through but he couldn’t really believe that was it. Hell, he was kinda surprised Derek didn’t show up sooner.

“Get out,” he says, refusing to even look at Derek. Of course Derek has taken over his chair. If Stiles gave a shit anymore he might just buy the guy his own damn chair.

Predictably, Derek doesn’t move. “We need to talk.”

“We really, really don’t,” snaps Stiles.

“Kaidan.”

Stiles’ head whips back to Derek. “The fuck did you just call me?”

“Kaidan. It is your name.” Derek isn’t asking. He knows Stiles’ name. He’s known for a while now and maybe he should have started this conversation sooner but he’s here now and he isn’t leaving.

Stiles sits on his bed and crosses his arms. “So you know my name. Big whoop. Anyone could look that up on a birth certificate.”

“I didn’t look up your name,” says Derek in exasperation. “I’ve known it for a while.”

“Yeah then how come you never use it?” Stiles is defiant. “Pretty good ammunition there.”

“I didn’t think you wanted anyone using it. I looked up its meaning once and I saw your face when Deaton told you to be the spark and I figured it had something to do with your mom. Seemed too personal.”

Stiles sort of goes slack jawed at that and stares at Derek.

Derek takes the opportunity to keep going. “Just because you don’t talk, doesn’t mean I don’t hear you.”

“I don’t talk?!” squawks Stiles. That’s pretty much the last thing anyone ever says about him. “I talk all the time.”

“Not about the important stuff,” returns Derek. “You talk a lot but anyone who’s listening can tell you don’t ever actually share anything deeper. Anything that matters.”

Stiles stays quiet and rethinks his perception of Derek. For one, Derek's right. Stiles does talk about nonsense. He usually does it because the silence is deafening and he can’t bear to talk about the real stuff. Except that’s not what keeps him quiet. That stems from the fact that Derek knows this kind of information. That Derek’s paid enough attention to understand him is both frightening and comforting.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” is the response Stiles finally comes up with. He’s pulled his knees up to his chest and is kind of rocking and hugging himself without really knowing what he’s doing.

Derek’s eyes are kind and something in Stiles’ brain registers that he likes that look. “I thought you wanted to keep your secrets. Now I know differently.”

“Oh,” says Stiles, rocking a little. “Oh.”

Derek looks at Stiles and walks over to sit next to him on the bed. “I won’t leave you if you let me in,” he says softly.

And Stiles stops fighting, drops his head into his arms and cries. Big choking sobs that he wasn’t even aware he had in him anymore. Through it all Derek doesn’t leave. He just strokes Stiles’ back and rubs his thumb against his neck and croons quiet words of comfort.

When Stiles is finally out of tears, Derek lays him down so his head’s on a pillow and tucks a blanket around him.

Stiles’ hands latch onto Derek’s shirt, not letting him go. “Please don’t leave,” he begs.

So Derek curls up next to Stiles and holds him close.

Stiles buries his head on Derek’s chest and just breathes. Like maybe, just maybe, he can start to feel safe.

“Don’t leave,” he pleads one last time as he fades away.

“I’m right here,” promises Derek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He keeps his promise.

* * *

 

“I need to say something to you,” says Scott before the pack meeting can start, coming to stand in front of Stiles.

It took two weeks for Derek to convince Stiles to come back. Stiles wouldn’t talk to anyone else, just went to school, went to lacrosse, and came home. He could tell they were trying to talk to him, trying to figure out what to say that didn’t make it seem forced, but he couldn’t deal with any of it. And when he’d get home, Derek would be there.

Neither one talked very much. Stiles would work on homework and Derek would read whatever book he could find in Stiles’ room. Which meant he was getting very familiar with Batman’s history thanks to Stiles’ extensive DC comics collection. And then a memory would hit Stiles and he’d kind of shudder and Derek would be there, rubbing his arms and whispering that it’d be okay and eventually Stiles would calm down.

At one point Derek had picked up a book of fairytales, with an innocent joke about how it was nice to see Stiles kept the fun but pointless books with the actual research. Stiles didn’t really remember how it happened but suddenly Derek was on the floor, Stiles’ hands around his neck and he was screaming at him over making fun of the last thing his mother had given him.

Stiles sort of thought Derek would leave after that. Instead he let Stiles hit him and scream and when Stiles’ screams turned to tears, Derek stuck around through that too. And when Stiles was calm, Derek reached into his jacket & showed him the picture of his family, the one he said he never lets go of. It showed the Hales in an attempt to take a family Christmas photo. All ugly sweaters and decorations and laughter. Derek said the picture turned out beautiful, but the one before, when Laura is poking at him and his Dad is yelling at them to behave and the cousins are kicking each other, that one is his favorite. That one is family.

Neither would mention it, but they could sense the relationship shift after that. Another layer of hostility & distrust, almost the final layer, had been stripped away.

So when Derek had asked him to come back to a pack meeting, Stiles hadn’t immediately yelled about it. He just quietly told Derek that he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that. Wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Derek promised there would be no requests, no research needs. The pack was feeling bereft without Stiles, they could use his presence. No one would make him feel uncomfortable. Stiles said okay.

He’d showed up and Derek had clearly briefed everyone because no one really commented. Lydia and Allison hugged him when he came in. Jackson even kind of side-arm hugged him. Derek sat down in his usual spot on the couch and sort of opened up his stance and Stiles didn’t even think about what the pack might think. He curled up against Derek, happy to have the comfort.

Only Boyd & Lydia gave him odd looks. Boyd had this sort of satisfied expression and Lydia was wearing the face she had when she’d just figured out a complicated chemical equation.

As everyone else gathered in, Erica sat at Stiles’ feet and Isaac sat next to him on the couch and everyone else seemed to press in just a little closer than normal.

So now that Scott is standing in front of him, Stiles is feeling a little weird. Plus he can tell Derek wasn’t prepped on Scott’s plan because Derek’s body is tensing up next to him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” says Stiles.

Scott shakes his head furiously, in that weird puppy dog way that only he can do. “Yes, I do. And I know I don’t talk that much and I know it’s bad timing cuz it seems like I’m only saying this because of what you said but I’ve thought a lot of this stuff for a long time and I’ve been thinking about everything you said, but I just didn’t know you needed me to say it so now I need to.”

If it had been anyone else, Stiles probably would let Derek get off the couch to haul them out of the room but this was Scott and so he just leans his head against Derek’s shoulder and tells Scott, “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” begins Scott. “I’m sorry I never said thank you. I know how much you do for me, Stiles. I know you and your dad give up having a normal Father’s day every year so I don’t feel left out. You teach me how to memorize stuff for history class without making me feel stupid and you’ve been giving me advice about girls for as long as I can remember and it’s always advice that works too.”

Scott continues, hands in his pockets, looking only at Stiles as he talks. “I never could have made it through this last year without you. I know I apologized for the horrible things, like trying to kill you or making out with Lydia.”

Jackson snarls and Stiles laughs before he can help it. His laugh seems to help because the tension in the room lessens slightly.

“But I didn’t think about apologizing for the little things. I never considered how you might feel about having to listen to me go on about being in love with Allison when you didn’t have someone to tell me about. I kept complaining about Derek and the danger and having to protect people when you were right there with me. Hell, you were doing all the toughest parts and I was acting like I had the problem when even if I got hit or tortured or kidnapped I could just heal and you couldn’t.”

Scott swipes his sleeve across his eyes and Stiles is staring at him because he never realized his best friend paid attention to any of this stuff.

“You plan and analyze stuff like crazy, Stiles, but when it comes time to save someone you don’t even think twice about what to do. You tread water for two hours to save a werewolf’s life or charge into a jail on a full moon to protect a guy you barely know and you sit outside my door to make sure I can’t hurt anyone.”

Scott’s voice shakes a little on that last bit but he’s perfectly steady through the next. “Stiles, you’re the best and bravest person I’ve ever known. I’m sorry I never told you before.”

Stiles doesn’t even hesitate as he lunges off the couch and hugs his best friend.

After a while they break apart and Scott goes back to his chair with Allison and Stiles leans back into Derek and Stiles starts to realize that maybe things can get better. That maybe now that they all know, they can fix the problems instead of him.

He looks at Derek, expecting him to start the meeting now but Derek just motions to Jackson and Lydia to go ahead.

Lydia starts. “I know you were told a pack meeting but we kind of hoped you’d be okay with a movie night instead.”

“So no one has to talk to you,” interrupts Jackson, though he’s swiftly cut off by Lydia’s elbow to his ribs and Erica kicking him in the shins.

“Idiot,” says Lydia, rolling her eyes.

Stiles holds back a snicker.

“We thought a movie night would let us all be together but not add a bunch of extra pressure on you, hopefully.”

“That’s what I said,” grumbles Jackson.

Lydia ignores him beautifully and continues. “And if you don’t want to, we can make up something to talk about for a meeting and go home but Jackson is ordering pizza and we got your favorite sodas and Allison even made those peppermint brownies that you love. So we’re hoping this is okay.”

Stiles smiles because yeah he knows this is triggered by his outburst but he doesn’t even care. The fact that they all want him to be happy is giving warm fuzzy feelings that he doesn’t really know what to do with. So he goes with the easiest answer he can think of. “We’re watching ‘Empire Strikes Back’ and I want black olives on my sausage pizza.”

And then he laughs, long and full when Scott turns to Danny and says “pay up” and then Boyd makes Scott pay him because Scott said Star Wars but Boyd picked the exact movie and yeah it seems silly and ridiculous to bet on what movie he’d picked but the fact that they got it right tells Stiles he’s going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Stiles' name first. I wanted something that meant little spark and I found Aidan which means little flame in Gaelic. And then “ka” in Elvish (as a suffix) refers to something of the soul, like it’s not just a description but embodies the person. Aidanka seemed really stupid and kind of girlish so I went with Kaidan. Y’all can love or hate it, but that’s what I came up with. Also, I originally started this story before the names of the Alphas were released. I probably wouldn't have gone with Kaidan if I'd known but I like it too much to change now. Damn show going and using one of my favorite character names. (Seriously Aidan & Ethan are go to names for me and it's so weird for me to not be able to use them in TW fic except as Alphas.)
> 
> As to this chapter...This story WILL have a happy ending. I just want to be clear on that. And this one does seem pretty happy. But I want to caution that things aren't fixed and while they're looking up, it won't be all sunshine and roses. I wanted to show a more realistic reaction in that if a friend tells you they need something, most of us want to help and to do better. But there's a difference between apologizing and changing. Going forward, that's what I'll be exploring more. So yeah, right now there's a bandaid on a problem, not an actual fix.  
> In addition, Stiles has to figure out who he is. He throws himself into things wholeheartedly (and that can be a good thing) but it means (imo) that he doesn't really know himself sometimes. This will probably make more sense in the following chapter. Basically, all I ask is that you know that this fic has a ways to go and what might seem like easy solutions or quick fixes are very deliberate writing choices.  
> Told ya the notes were gonna be long. Sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek lands on his feet outside Stiles’ window to find himself staring into the eyes of John Stilinski. A few days ago there had been an incident, one that Stiles thankfully wasn’t aware of. It was almost dawn and Stiles was dreaming. Which wasn’t exactly new. Derek had figured out that Stiles usually slept pretty well these days until the last hour or two before he woke up. This time around, Stiles was clearly dreaming about sex from the noises he made and the way he kept moving around. Derek just sort of lay there, not touching Stiles, waiting for the dream to finish. The last time Stiles had this kind of dream, Derek got up and left, figuring he’d leave Stiles some privacy.

Except when he came back that afternoon, Stiles was shaken and scared looking and it took over for an hour for Derek to get out of him that when he hadn’t been there, Stiles thought something horrible had happened. Derek didn’t really know how to admit the truth but Stiles made him promise not to leave again. It was an easy promise to make.

Neither of them thought too much about the ramifications of that event. Or to be more precise, Derek wasn’t telling Stiles how much he thought about it. Their comfort around each other had intensified though. He would now read while leaning against Stiles or resting at his feet. Even the pack started referring to the two of them, never just one.

And Derek liked it. He really really liked it. But the whole thing kind of scared him too because he felt like he was standing on the edge of a razor and a fall one way meant happiness and a fall the other meant a pain like he hadn’t felt in years. And he couldn’t tell what Stiles wanted or if he was anything more than safety to him and so he kept his mouth shut. If his arm pulled Stiles a little closer at night or he found himself noticing the way Stiles always smelled like Christmas, all pine trees and snow and peppermint, he wasn’t commenting on it.

Nope, as far as Derek was concerned, he and Stiles were friends, good friends, who could trust each other with the tough stuff in life.

Until four days ago when Stiles had another sex dream and Derek tried to stay really still and not let his brain work. Then Stiles had whimpered Derek’s name and there wasn’t really a whole lot of question as to what was making him say Derek’s name like that and Derek was suddenly extremely aware of why someone had coined the term ‘popping a boner’.

He’d catapulted himself out the window and walked down the street, kept walking for a few miles, then walked back and laid back down and made sure he was there when Stiles woke up.

Stiles did it again the next day. And the day after. So Derek had quickly adapted a habit of slipping out the window, walking off these feelings and reactions that he wasn’t really sure what to do with and coming back in time for Stiles to never know anything different.

And now it was 5:30 in the morning on a Saturday and the Sheriff was staring at him with an expression that Derek couldn’t figure out.

“Derek,” says John.

“Sir,” answers Derek, and when the hell did he start calling John sir?

John gives him a hard look at that and seems to come to a decision. “I made coffee.”

Derek follows because he can tell he’s supposed to and he’s sort of not sure why John isn’t reacting more to him jumping out of his son’s window at an ungodly hour of the morning but he keeps quiet.

Once inside, John pours them both coffee and motions for Derek to join him at the kitchen table. It’s silent for several minutes.

“Sometimes I think my son takes on everyone else’s pain so they don’t have to hurt as much,” is what John finally says and that’s about the last thing Derek expected to hear.

“He did it when his mother was sick,” continues Sheriff Stilinski. “He does it with me and with his friends. Up until a couple months ago, Stiles seemed like he was suffocating. Then one day he came home crying, refusing to talk to me, and shuts himself in his room for three days, insisting he’s sick. I’m not gonna lie, I thought long and hard about coming down to that excuse of a home you have and making you tell me what was going on with my son. Police get new weapons all the time, I figured I could adapt to wolfsbane.”

Derek is very still.

“And the fourth day he came down to breakfast, still far too quiet for my son, but he ate and told me he’d be going to school. Since then he’s looked like the weight of the world isn’t resting on his shoulders so much.” John Stilinski sets down his coffee mug and stares straight into Derek’s eyes. “Interesting how all that started the day you showed up in his room.”

Derek almost succeeds in not spitting out his coffee. “You knew? Know?”

John gives him an exasperated look, the kind Derek used to get from his father all the time and he’s not even pretending that’s not weird.

“I know you kids think you’re clever, but most parents are pretty damn good at knowing what goes on under their roof. The difference is whether you have a parent who trusts their kid, or the ones who don’t care.” John’s voice is a little hard on that last one and Derek can tell he doesn’t think much of parents like that.

“You’ve seemed to help him and I haven’t said anything until now. But my son is very important to me, Derek, so it would appear we need to have a talk. I look at him and see all the best parts of his mother and I won’t risk his happiness.”

Derek latches on to that because it’s the one thing he hasn’t been able to start fixing for Stiles and no matter what John might do to him, not that he thinks it’ll be much although the guy has been hanging out with Chris Argent so maybe he shouldn’t be so dismissive, but this needs to be said. “You can ask me anything you want sir, and I’ll answer, but may I say something first?”

John nods.

“Tell Stiles that,” says Derek and he can’t hide the urgency in his voice. “He thinks that when he reminds you of your wife that it’s painful for you. He thinks his…” Derek doesn’t really know how to finish his next statement.

But John gets it. He’s horrified but he gets it. “My son thinks his existence hurts me?”

Derek nods.

John’s eyes well up with tears and he focuses very hard on refilling the coffee for both of them and Derek finds himself very invested in the cracks in the dining room table.

“I’ll fix it,” says John finally. His voice is steady and Derek knows he means it. Knows he means he’ll fix more than just that problem.

“You can yell at me some if it makes you feel better, sir.”

John gives a little smirk and it is uncanny how much it looks like Stiles’. “You keep calling me sir.”

“It seemed appropriate,” answers Derek.

“You never used to. It was a very gruff Sheriff or even the occasional John. And not that I have any sort of issue with how you refer to me, it’s just the ‘sir’ is a new one. Just in the last few weeks actually.”

“I guess so,” says Derek, trying to figure out what John is saying.

John grins. “Scott calls Chris Argent ‘sir’. Jackson does the same to Lydia’s father, I did it to my wife’s father when I was trying to figure out how to ask her out.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying, sir.” Derek actually does think he gets it but that means he’s been really obvious about his feelings and he didn’t think he was that readable.

“I’m saying were you ever going to ask my permission to date my son?”

Derek’s jaw drops. He didn’t really expect that much of a straight forward answer.

“The way you two act around each other is full of more pining than one of those damn Twilight movies,” says John. “And yes, my son made me watch them. Honestly I don’t know how in the world you haven’t made a move with all the time you spend in his room.”

“Not that I approve of you jumping ahead of things like that,” he adds quickly.

“We haven’t…I mean, I haven’t…nothing’s happened…” Derek’s stammering and he can’t seem to stop.

John mercifully steps in. “I’m aware of that. I hate that I know this but my son isn’t exactly quiet about anything. I can’t imagine that changing.”

Derek does everything in his power to hide the fact that he kind of wants to see just how loud Stiles could be.

John still glares at him. _Damn dads are good_ , thinks Derek.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” says John, “but I’m just a bit baffled as to why you haven’t tried anything.”

Derek opts for honesty. “I’m scared.”

John doesn’t hesitate in his response. “Stiles isn’t Kate Argent, Derek.”

Derek can’t even begin to explain how much it amazes him that John gets how much Kate affected him and he’s realizing that the Sheriff is a lot more observant than he ever gave him credit for. “I know that,” responds Derek. “But what if I am?”

It’s his greatest fear. The one he won’t even voice to Stiles, because what if he is like Kate. Selfish and cutthroat and only out for what makes him happy no matter whom it hurts on the way.

“If I thought that was true, there’d be a wolf pelt on the back of my sofa instead of that blanket,” says John with absolutely no hesitation.

And now about a million different thoughts are running through Derek’s head because he can tell that John means it and would do it and that’s kind of scary but underneath the threat is the fact that John Stilinski believes Derek is a good person. And worthy of Stiles. Holy shit, John thinks Derek is good enough to date his son, who is quite possibly the most amazing person Derek has ever met and that thought baffles him.

So Derek goes with the only answer he can think of. “Is…is tonight okay?”

John laughs in a really good way that says he’s just happy Derek isn’t being ridiculous and trying to pretend his feelings aren’t real.

Derek is just trying really hard not to panic over how Stiles will respond.

John nods then motions for Derek to get up. “I’m pretty sure my son has gotten used to waking up with you around in the morning so you should probably get back up there.” He gives Derek a stern look. “That is not an invitation to misbehave.”

Derek nods so fast he’s wondering if it can give him whiplash. He starts to head out the front door when John clears his throat.

“We have these things called doors, Derek.”

Derek sheepishly turns back around and heads down the hallway, trying to calm his nerves and ignore the way he can still smell John Stilinski’s laughter.

He sits back down on the bed, leaning against the headboards and it takes all of two seconds for Stiles to turn towards him, throwing one arm over his stomach. Derek just sits, not thinking at all because all the permission in the world doesn’t matter if Stiles isn’t interested in return.

After what seems like forever but is more like 45 minutes, Stiles wakes up. Derek gives him enough time to register that he’s there before Stiles mumbles that he needs to shower. So Derek sits a little bit longer and waits for Stiles to brush his teeth and shower and generally wake up.

When Stiles comes back in the room, Derek is standing by the window, ready to flee if this goes badly.

“You’re in a weird mood,” comments Stiles, pulling a shirt over his head and no Derek is not staring at Stiles’ hips and wondering how they’d feel pressed up against him.

“Will you go out with me?” says Derek and wow that wasn’t how he meant to do this but it’s out now so he just sort of stands there waiting.

Stiles has this look of terror on his face but Derek knows Stiles pretty well at this point and it’s not so much terror of the question but like he’s wondering if he’s reading the situation the way he wants it to be.

“Like on pack duty?” asks Stiles hesitantly. Thank God Derek can hear a heartbeat because he’d be freaking out but Stiles’ heart is racing a mile a minute.

“Like on a date,” answers Derek.

Stiles is quiet and Derek starts getting nervous. Then he bites his lip in this way that makes Derek want to cross the room and take that lip between his own teeth. Stiles’ lashes flutter up and he whispers.

“Yes, please.”

Derek can’t even begin to stop the grin on his face. “Pick you up at seven.”

Stiles nods and Derek hauls himself out the window because he’s fairly certain he needs Lydia to be free immediately for fashion advice. He’s determined to make tonight perfect.

~

Scott came over the minute Stiles sent him a text. ‘Freaking out. Get over here.’ He (and really everyone) had been trying to do better about getting to Stiles when he needed them. It might not be something that could happen all the time but for now they all agreed that Stiles needed to understand how much he meant to everyone.

If that meant Scott had a little less time with Allison, well then he’d put up with it. This is his best friend after all.

As soon as Scott got to the Stilinski’ house, he ran up the stairs to Stiles’ bedroom. The Sheriff was working tonight but Scott’s had a key for longer than he can remember.

When he reaches the bedroom, all Scott can see are piles of clothes everywhere. “Um, Stiles? Dude, your room looks like Lydia had a fit. Where are you?”

Stiles pokes his head out of the closet and Scott suddenly gets worried about how upset Stiles looks. “I can’t find anything to wear.”

“Okay. This isn’t really something I ever wanted to say—or think—but I’m pretty sure Derek doesn’t care what you wear. Except maybe that red hoodie of yours. He has a weird thing for it.” Scott sits on the edge of the bed and takes a good look at his best friend. He might be the dumber member of the pack but when he pays attention, he knows he’s pretty smart. It’s just that his attention is usually focused on only one thing, Allison, so everything else kinda gets shoved aside.

“But I care,” yells Stiles and Scott jumps a little bit. “I care about what I look like because this is a date. Like an actual date which feels really weird to say because Derek’s been sleeping in my bed for weeks now even though we don’t actually do anything and now he went and basically told my dad he likes me and asked me out and all that happened this morning and I’m kind of freaking out.”

“You seemed pretty excited about it when you called and told me earlier,” says Scott, not exactly sure what Stiles needs.

Apparently that wasn’t it because Stiles gets even redder and starts flailing again.

“I know. And I was. I am. I think. Please don’t give me a grossed out look but I guess somewhere in my mind I sort of thought that if anything ever happened it would pretty much just be sex and we wouldn’t have to talk about feelings or anything like it,” explains Stiles.

Scott can kind of get that. In a way he doesn’t, because he likes all the feelings part, sometimes even more than the sex, but he’s watched Derek and Stiles and he can understand why Stiles would think it was easier if this was just physical.

“But you like him right? I mean you want to have these feelings and dates and stuff?” asks Scott.

Stiles nods and sinks to the floor, leaning against the wall. “Yeah.”

Scott waits because he feels like Stiles has more to say.

“But I’m scared, Scott,” continues Stiles. “The date’s one thing. It could go totally wrong and be super awkward and send Derek and I back to our weird thing where I yell at him and he pushes me into a wall thing and that would suck but I could deal with that.”

And this is one of those moments when Scott knows that he’s still Stiles’ best friend because he can tell what Stiles isn’t saying. It makes him a little mad at himself to realize that and then have to realize how much he hasn’t been paying attention to Stiles for him to have missed all the other times. But he can still help. “So you’re scared of what happens if the date goes well?” he asks quietly.

There’s a long pause before Stiles barely nods. “What if it’s perfect, Scott? What if the date goes well and then we go out again and it gets serious and I’m sure at some point there’s sex but what if I fall in love?”

Scott moves off the bed and sits next to Stiles. “Falling in love isn’t so bad.”

“But what if I lose him? I think I could get over it right now,” whispers Stiles. “But if I let him in, I mean really trust him and care about Derek, the way I do about you and my dad and my mom…I don’t think I could handle losing him after that.”

“Stiles, I know you’ve only been spending a little bit of time with the pack, just movie nights once in a while, but we all see Derek when he’s not around you,” says Scott. “I think everyone would agree that there’s no way Derek’s going to back out of this. I think he needs you even more than you need him. Derek’s just never really faced that before.”

Stiles sniffles a little and his eyes are full of tears. “But what if someone else takes him away? I still don’t know how to really be happy without my mom around. I…I can’t get Derek just to have some new threat kill him.”

Before Scott can say anything there’s a knock at the door. Stiles startles and looks at his watch. Scott just sniffs.

“Is it?” asks Stiles.

“Yeah,” answers Scott. “Want me to tell him to wait a minute?”

Scott watches as Stiles shakes his head. “No. Can you tell him to go away?” His voice is quiet enough that Derek shouldn’t be able to hear.

“Stiles, are you sure?”

Stiles nods. “I can’t do this. Not now. Just…just make him go away. Make him hate me, I don’t care.”

Scott considers trying to reason with Stiles but one look at the misery and utter terror on his best friend’s face makes him think better of it. So he heads downstairs, stopping only briefly at the linen closet before opening the front door.

“Derek?” Scott keeps his own voice quiet, even though he’d have to yell for Stiles to hear him.

Derek turns towards Scott and he can see the worry on Derek’s face. “Is it Stiles? Did something happen? Is he okay?”

Scott answers as best he can. “Nothing happened but no, he’s not okay. And you can’t help him right now,” he adds, blocking Derek’s way inside.

Derek snarls at Scott but doesn’t push him aside.

“He told me to make you go away,” says Scott and any worries he had about what this actually meant to Derek disappear at the heartbreak in Derek’s eyes. “He’s scared, Derek. Scared that if he lets himself care and then loses you that he can’t come back from that.”

“But he cares about you, and Lydia, and his dad and even the pack.”

Scott can tell Derek’s trying to understand and for a second he realizes that he actually gets it. At least enough to explain it to Derek. “He loves us, he does. But I don’t think Stiles has really loved anyone completely since his mom died. He’s closed off now. Like no one gets to get all the way inside because if they can’t get in, they can’t one day leave him.”

“I won’t leave him,” whispers Derek.

“It might not be your fault,” answers Scott. “He’s scared, Derek. I still remember when he was little. Stiles loves his dad but his mom was his entire world. All his favorite things were, are, her favorites. He lost who he was when she died. And I think he’s afraid that if he gets too close to you, he’ll lose himself all over again. Just don’t…don’t give up on Stiles. Okay?”

“I wasn’t going to,” growls Derek. He looks at Scott, really looks at him. “Why is there a blanket and pillow in your arms?”

“Because I kind of guessed that you wouldn’t leave and the porch swing isn’t as comfortable as it looks,” says Scott, while tossing the stuff at Derek.

Derek stares for a minute and the two of them come to an understanding.

Scott walks back inside and upstairs and puts his arm around Stiles.

“Was he angry?” chokes out Stiles.

Scott shakes his head. “He’s still down there. I gave him a blanket.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything for a while. Then finally, he leans his head against Scott’s shoulder. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ya know how I tagged this as slow-build? Still is. That's why the end of this chapter happens. And while Scott is perceptive enough to see what Stiles is struggling with, Stiles has a ways to go to understand it.  
> Also, I do think that Scott is pretty damn smart when he pays attention. It's just that he tends to have a one-track mind *cough*Allison*cough* and so never sees anyone else. Hence Stiles' earlier yelling. But Allison hasn't always been around and now that Scott's paying attention, there's more that he can notice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but y'all get an update tomorrow as well that will include Derek. This chapter marks a transition for Stiles (and by virtue of a ripple effect, several other people) and I felt this part stood better alone, hence the split.

Stiles wakes earlier than he usually does for a weekend morning. But then, waking is a relative term. He’s only dozed most of the night, alternately too confused and too frustrated to sleep. But somewhere around 3am—and he’s never been in such agreement that it should be called a witching hour—he settled his own mind.

It’s not perfect, but it’s a step in the right direction. He has some ideas about what he wants. More importantly, Stiles thinks that for the first time in a very long time, he might know what he needs.

Derek is still one of those things that he wants.

But he’s not a need. Not yet.

And Stiles knows he has to focus on the needs before the wants. It’s much less confusing in his head.

The sounds of coffee being made drift up the stairs. His dad is being quiet, probably thinking Stiles is sleeping in. He’s very much awake though, so he heads downstairs.

There’s no talking for the first ten minutes. Stiles pours two cups of coffee, putting a little cream in his.

John makes a little more noise as he pulls bacon and eggs out of the fridge. Stiles starts making toast and sets plates and silverware out.

It’s not until they are sitting at the table that John speaks. “So I kicked Derek off our front porch this morning…” His eyebrow quirks up in a clear ‘you’ll need to explain exactly what led to Derek sleeping on my porch swing’ message.

“We didn’t go on the date,” begins Stiles, waiting for his dad to comment.

John very pointedly sips at his coffee.

“I changed my mind. Or maybe I didn’t really change it. I just got confused about my feelings and Derek and scared and I made Scott tell Derek to go away. But I guess he didn’t. So there’s that.” Stiles frowns and picks at his bacon. It’s a mark of how upset he still is when he shoves the last two pieces onto his dad’s plate.

“How’d you sleep?” asks John.

“Terrible,” answers Stiles. “I kept turning over expecting Derek to be there. He’s always there these days and I don’t know what I want exactly or if I’m as ready as I want to be to feel something for him but I got used to…” His voice trails away, remembering that this is still his dad and might not want so many details.

“Sometimes I still reach across the bed at night and try to hold your mom’s hand,” says John softly. “It was the first thing we did the first time she stayed over in my dorm room after we met. I think that night was supposed to be the big step, everyone expected it, but we read stupid poetry in weird accents and listened to music and fell asleep. I woke up later and realized that she was awake too and I remember panicking, thinking that I didn’t know how exactly to make a move. But more than sex, I just wanted that assurance that she wasn’t trying to leave. So I reached my hand out to hers, and wove our fingers together. And she stayed.”

Stiles has tears in his eyes. That’s not a story he’s ever heard. “How do you sleep now?” It’s not a fair question. It doesn’t say any of the things he wants it to, like I’m sorry or I miss her too or I know it’s stupid of me to feel like missing Derek is even close to comparable but I need someone to understand this. Someone to make sense of it.

John scoots his chair over and puts an arm around his son. “It gets lonely a lot. There’s something comforting about having someone in the same bed, even if nothing physical happens. Knowing someone else is there in the quiet moments. But now? Now I reach out sometimes and then I wake up and I cry and then I remember that you’re down the hall. And that I still have someone to reach out to when life gets too dark. That’s how I sleep now.”

Stiles pushes his plate aside and crawls into his dad’s lap and sobs. He cries for his mom and he cries for all the times he hasn’t been able to talk about her. He cries for the last year and a half of his life, of going from days of living in worry of an everyday crime or a human disease to knowing nothing but pure immobilizing fear. Stiles cries for himself and a little bit for Derek and the pack and eventually John cries with him too.

When they finally pull apart, the coffee is long cold and both men are spent. It was a breakthrough years in the making and maybe they both wish that different reasons brought them here but they made it. That’s the important part of the story.

“What now?” asks John once Stiles has heated up the coffee and returned to his own chair.

Stiles thinks. He has a lot of things to work on, things to change. He needs a starting point though. Something tells him that picking a way that his dad can help is the best choice. After several minutes, he has his answer.

“I need to learn how to rescue myself.”


	5. Chapter 5

Everything in Stiles wanted to wait a few days to talk to Derek, to pretend that he hadn’t just ruined whatever it was they’d been developing. But he knew that wasn’t fair to Derek. Derek had been patient and understanding and Stiles recognized that it showed Derek’s own growth in the way he stayed last night but didn’t insist on talking to Stiles. Ignoring him to get out of an awkward conversation wasn’t an option.

So Stiles heads over to the station after helping his dad clean up the breakfast dishes and showering.

Isaac and Boyd are tossing a lacrosse ball between them out front, while Erica watches them from her perch on a low tree branch.

When he pulls up, they turn towards him. There’s no surprise in their eyes, but their behavior stays human. It’s actually something all the betas had been working on. Allison and Lydia echoed Stiles’ frustrations with feeling out of place among the wolves. They knew the pack could still hear heartbeats and sounds early on and scent emotions but everyone had been trying to be less intrusive about it around the humans.

Jackson was best, surprisingly, but they were all doing well.

Now, Stiles appreciates that they can clearly sense his nerves and hear his accelerated heartbeat, but they aren’t immediately calling him out on it.

“Hey Stiles,” says Isaac, tossing the ball back to Boyd.

“Hey,” offers Stiles in return.

“So what brings you to our neck of the woods?” asks Boyd.

“I need to talk to Derek. Any chance you guys could give us a little privacy?” He throws his keys to Erica. “You can take my jeep.”

Erica grabs the keys in midair and hops off the branch, landing smoothly. “Sure thing. C’mon boys, we’ll go get burgers. How long do you need, Stiles?”

Stiles smiles gratefully. “Maybe an hour? I’m not really sure.”

The trio nods at him and pile into the jeep. Stiles says a quick prayer that Erica will treat his baby gently and heads into the station. Derek is…well he’s cleaning up which surprises Stiles a bit, especially since he wasn’t sure the station was even a thing that could be cleaned.

Derek stops when Stiles gets to the bottom of the steps. “Stiles.”

“So I kind of owe you an apology,” he begins.

“No, I pushed too fast,” says Derek. “I shouldn’t have pressured you into feeling like you had to be okay with a date with me. I made assumptions.”

Stiles stops him. “You made accurate assumptions, Derek. I do like you. I have for a while though it’s been lately that it became more than just a crush on you for your looks. But I made the assumption that I was ready for too much change too fast. And clearly last night showed that I’m not.”

“Stiles…”

“Derek, please let me get all of this out. I promise I’ll listen, but I need to say this first.”

Derek nods at him, motions for Stiles to sit down on the steps with him, and waits.

“I’m still trying to figure what I want and where my place is. I appreciate so much that all of you have made it clear that I’m a part of this pack as long as I choose to be and I choose to be pack. But I need to figure out my role. Maybe it is as researcher. I just need to know it’s my choice and not something that’s forced on me.” Stiles hesitates, making sure Derek isn’t getting upset. Derek looks calm though, so Stiles continues. “Senior year starts in a few weeks. I have to start making these decisions and deciding who I want to be before I start worrying about after high school. I’m pretty much terrified and overwhelmed by that thought and as much as I want to tell myself that a boyfriend would make it easier, this thing between us isn’t—can’t be—casual. I don’t want it to be. And that means I can’t date you. Not right now. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I’ll understand if you need me to stay away for a while.”

Derek reaches out and pulls Stiles close to him, the same gesture of comfort he’s been giving for weeks. “I don’t want you to stay away.”

“Really?”

“Really. Stiles, I’m the last person who wants to force you into a relationship. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you with the other stuff if I can.”

Stiles smiles and leans in closer. “Thanks. I have a place to start?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you help train me in self-defense?” he asks. “My dad’s going to work with me on guns and getting out of kidnapping situations but I could use some help on the supernatural side.”

Derek pulls back a little to look at him. “You could join in training.”

“Won’t that mess with the wolves’ practice?”

Derek shakes his head. “Allison, Lydia, and Danny started training with us at the start of the summer.”

“What?!” yelps Stiles.

“It was Danny’s idea actually. He took a cue from your frustrations and said the humans should get offensive and defensive training instead of just expecting to stay home. I think he had more points but I agreed with him too fast to give him a chance to make them.”

“Go Danny.”

Derek laughs. “Allison’s a terror during capture the flag. Though so far Isaac seems to give her the best run for her money.”

“Because he’s as smart as her?”

“Because he cheats.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“I warned him once. Allison asked me later to let him do it. Helps her train better since an enemy won’t play fair.”

“Guess that makes sense. I’ll come over with Scott tomorrow then. Thanks, Derek,” says Stiles, leaning back against Derek.

Derek just makes a contented sound in his throat and sits quietly with Stiles until his betas return with the jeep and Stiles can head home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so fair warning, it will probably be a couple weeks before this gets updated now, as I finish up my Teen Wolf Christmas series and update other WIPs. But I wanted to get out the Derek/Stiles talk and set Stiles up to move forward. I think it's clear, but just in case, this is not a break-up or anything. It's just a temporary postponement of Sterek. They'll definitely get there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. This story...it started out as a deliberately angry & angsty one-shot. Then I didn't feel right about leaving it there. It needed resolution, even if it wasn't easily obtained. So I kept writing. And then finishing it was difficult just because of my own weird brain.
> 
> I had once thought it would take a few more chapters to finish. But that's not really fair to those of you who enjoyed this story, because I couldn't guarantee I'd update consistently. So I decided to wrap it up more efficiently. The thing is, while there's less dialogue than I originally intended, the story is complete in a way that feels right to me. Hopefully you feel the same way.

It takes five months and a nest of harpies before Stiles is ready for a relationship.

He works steadily with his dad at self-defense. Stiles had always known that his dad knew martial arts, but he learns quickly that that’s putting it mildly. John insists that he practice defensive techniques mostly. The few offensive strategies he learns are more for giving him a few extra moments to run than for an actual fight.

Stiles argues with his dad on that at first. He needs to be able to fight. John’s tone is gentle when he points out that a sixty-five year old human was able to beat Stiles. It’s unlikely he’d be able to win against any supernatural creature. A human yes, but there are smarter ways to end a fight than with a fist.

One of the deputies at the station is the one who works with Stiles on meditation and calming strategies before he gets to be taught techniques to escape a kidnapping or imprisonment.

Stiles panics a lot at first. He’s prone to panic attacks of course, but it’s more than that. His mind tends to run through every possible scenario and outcome and the onslaught of information is what overwhelms him. Add to that the stress and fear of a kidnapping situation and it’s little wonder that he usually ends up panicking and unable to escape. Alex—the deputy—teaches Stiles to memorize a couple calming routines. Then he works with Stiles to learn how to isolate his thought patterns. Stiles knows he’s never actually going to stop himself from thinking about a hundred things at once.

But he learns how to prioritize and force his mind to work through small steps.

He has to work at it for several months, but eventually he can be put in a simulated kidnapping situation and not panic. He focuses on cataloguing where he is, then on steps like how to get a hand free, then another hand, then assess the escape options. There’s no guarantee that he won’t still panic in an actual kidnapping, but he knows how to keep it from taking over.

Stiles visits the gun range a couple times a week, as well as in the woods every Sunday with Chris, Allison, and his dad. He’s never going to be an expert marksman or sniper, but he displays more affinity with a handgun and is soon able to hit his chosen targets with about 95% accuracy.

John refuses to let Stiles carry a gun on a normal basis, citing that it shouldn’t be a first choice. Chris ends up talking with John and working out a better solution. Stiles is given an Argent modified weapon, a small handgun that takes tranquilizer darts, and he’s given a varied supply. Some are for humans, some have wolfsbane, some vervain, and others iron. It protects Stiles without forcing him to kill anyone.

Lydia and Danny request one for themselves. Allison of course has her collapsible crossbow.

Training with the pack isn’t the easiest thing in the world—not at first—but they get there.

They all have to find a balance between training hard enough that it will be useful against enemies and not actually causing the humans physical pain.

Stiles loses his temper a lot in the first couple months, getting frustrated at himself for failing to succeed.

Jackson picks fights with Stiles a lot during those days. It takes a little while for Scott and Derek to realize that Jackson’s doing it on purpose, letting Stiles lash out at him instead of seeing Stiles’ self-confidence plummet again.

Derek knows there’s probably a better way to deal with it, but he doesn’t stop Jackson. Its working and Jackson seems happier knowing he’s contributing to the pack dynamic.

But the changes outside of training are what ultimately make the biggest difference with the pack. Boyd, Erica, and Isaac start scheduling regular pack activities. The non-lacrosse playing members sit together and cheer at the games. They have movie or game nights on the weekends. And while no one really schedules specific study buddies, it becomes a rare day to not see at least a couple people sitting at the kitchen table in the house Derek purchases that fall, books cracked open and junk food strewn across it.

They get to know each other beyond the survival instincts or unavoidable basic pack bonds.

Stiles was right when he yelled at everyone. They didn’t know who he was. But he starts realizing that he doesn’t really know any of them either.  Some of his perceptions were misguided as well. There’s no small amount of fights as they all work through their frustrations, but they do work through them and new friendships form.

Luckily, at least in Stiles’ opinion, he and Derek really are able to stay friends during this time. For all Derek’s assurances, Stiles wasn’t completely convinced, but Derek proves himself.

John invites Derek to dinners at the house and when Stiles is having a particularly bad day that Scott or Lydia or his dad can’t fix, Derek stays the night. He’s careful in his touch, but still comforting and that’s all Stiles needs.

They spend long hours talking and getting to know each other better. Stiles learns about Kate and Laura and Talia and the rest of the Hales. In turn, he takes Derek to the cemetery and tells him about his mother.

A few supernatural issues and one brief hunter problem come into play, but it’s early in March when the harpies strike.

No one has much luck in figuring out why the harpies picked Beacon Hills, or what they really want, but Stiles is taken while they’re out tracking them, and Jackson—who was with him—is badly beaten. Stiles’ training kicks in, better than he could have imagined, and he uses the rowan ash in his pocket to seal the harpies in their nest. The rest of the battle and subsequent cleanup he leaves to Derek and Allison.

But the event is enough to assure Stiles that he is ready to try again with Derek. He’s been feeling ready for a few weeks, but scared that if something happened, he’d want to back out again. That wouldn’t be healthy and it wouldn’t be fair to Derek. So he’d waited.

His brief kidnapping assures him he’s not a defenseless victim anymore. And he realizes that putting off happiness out of fear—because that’s all that’s left now—is foolish.

In an ironic callback to the moment he told Derek he needed to wait, Boyd, Erica, and Isaac are tossing a football around in the yard, enjoying a rare warm spring day when he arrives. They wave at him as he exits his jeep.

“Wanna play?” offers Boyd.

Stiles shakes his head. “I kinda need to talk with Derek.”

“I think he’s out back,” says Isaac.

“Thanks. Hey can you guys watch the werewolf hearing and not listen in?” he asks. “I know you don’t do it on purpose but this is important to me.”

Erica tosses the ball towards the garage. “Do you need us to leave?”

“You wouldn’t mind.”

“Nah,” she shrugs. “We need some groceries anyway.”

Stiles once again shares his keys and makes his way into the house. Derek is sitting on the porch, lounging in a way that suits him and yet seems completely foreign at the same time. His eyes are attentive though, so Stiles knows Derek is aware that this isn’t a casual visit. He sits in one of the reclining chairs next to Derek.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Derek smiles softly at him. “What’s on your mind?”

“I think I’ve figured it out,” he begins. Derek doesn’t say anything, just waits for Stiles to continue. “I’m Kaidan. The kid who loves his mom and dad and comic books and sees magic in the world around him. I’m a nameless teen that doesn’t know where he belongs because his anchor’s gone. That’s the kid who learned that even Harry Potter had Voldemort, and magic doesn’t mean life is easy. I’m a spark, whatever that means. But I’m also Stiles. And Stiles is a survivor. I have more friends than I would have thought possible a year ago. Some days I think Jackson might be the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have, while Scott and I will always be platonic soul mates.”

Stiles sits up a little straighter, turning more towards Derek. “I’m a son who worries too much about his dad and yet still wants to be a kid. Someday I’ll be Sheriff just like he was. I know who I am now and I know how I feel and I’m not scared of that anymore.”

“And how do you feel?” asks Derek quietly.

Stiles reaches out and takes Derek’s hand in his, linking their fingers together. Derek’s fingers wrap tightly around his, an ever steady presence.

“Who I am is a lot of different things. One of them is a man in love with you.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Who Am I (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/813645) by [hummingfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingfox/pseuds/hummingfox)




End file.
